“…Demons… So many demons…”
“They’re the demons Qiu Heng suppressed with his immortal bones… It was true…”
Qiu Heng said that the moment he first saw me, he knew he would die at my hands…
Senior Brother, once you speak of matters of life and death, the prediction no longer holds.
So that was it. That was it!
He had to find Jichuan. Qiu Heng had spoken of it, which meant Qiu Heng could not possibly have died at Jichuan’s hands… Jichuan had told him long ago. He had been blind to what was right in front of him, trapped in his own delusions. He had to find Jichuan.
But the unjustly slain souls clung fast to his flesh and bones, binding him in place like countless blood-red vines that had taken root. He could not move an inch.
Yet he had to find Jichuan.
It was all his fault.
But there was no time left.
With the last of his strength, he carved his final words on the steps. He did not know whether Jichuan would return, or how many years might pass before he did. Paper would fade and wood would rot. He wanted Jichuan to see them, to understand his apology.
As death drew near, he thought he heard Jichuan speaking outside the temple: “Rongxi, I’m leaving. Won’t you come out and see me, just once?”
Don’t go… Jichuan… I saw those demons… I used my own flesh and blood in place of Qiu Heng’s immortal bones to seal them inside the scroll… It was my fault… Don’t go…
Come inside and see me.
I don’t want another life. I want to see you.
He raised his head with immense difficulty and gazed toward the tightly closed doors as his consciousness slowly withered away.
He should have spent his life cultivating quietly in the mountains, devoted to understanding the Dao. Whether he succeeded or failed, he ought to have departed unburdened and at peace. How… how had everything come to this?
“Rongxi… Rongxi…”
Yue Jingming slowly opened his eyes. They were bloodshot.
The agony of having his flesh carved away and his bones stripped out seemed to linger in his body. He could still see his master and junior brother dying before his eyes. Overwhelming remorse swept over him, mingled with the unwillingness, regret, and sorrow of his final moments. A thousand feelings gnawed at him like a swarm of ants, making the pain almost unbearable.
He could not accept it.
He could not accept the decree of fate, the cruel twists of circumstance, his own blindness, the deaths of everyone he loved, or never seeing Jichuan again. Least of all could he accept that, before he died, he had still… He simply could not accept it.
“Rongxi!!!” A desolate, anguished cry rang out from afar.
He sprang up almost before he knew what he was doing. Paying no heed to the mirror shards suspended around him, he let their sharp edges cut through his robes and skin as he ran toward that familiar voice.
Xiao Chunhe knelt on the ground, staring at the two carved lines before the steps. Consumed by a flood of resentment and hatred, he cried out as though each word cost him blood. “Why? Why would you never believe me?!”
Yue Jingming reached out in disbelief and rested a hand on his shoulder. “…Jichuan?”
Xiao Chunhe turned, staring at him dazedly. “Qiu Rongxi?”
Yue Jingming instinctively wanted to answer, but something felt wrong. In the depths of his memory, the person before him always used to call to him with a smile.
“I swore that if I had plotted everything, you and I would never meet again. You could have said it sooner or later, but you chose to carve those words about meeting again just before you died! Doesn’t that prove you never believed me?” Xiao Chunhe demanded bitterly. “You raised me. What right do you have to distrust me?”
A terrible pain pierced Yue Jingming’s heart. It ought to have been unbearable, an anguish and resentment rising from the depths of his soul, yet it was veiled by something thin and indistinct, leaving him unable to make sense of it. He looked at the man before him and wept, but a calmer voice emerged in his heart.
Do not become lost in it.
He wanted to hold the person before him tightly, yet forced himself to release his grip. “Xiao Chunhe. I’m Yue Jingming.”
At the familiar name, Xiao Chunhe froze, then abruptly came to his senses. Hot tears streamed down his face. “Heavens, you’re Yue Jingming! I’m dying. It really hurts so much I could die!”
Yue Jingming knelt halfway before him and lifted his trouser leg. “Is it the demon-gu?”
“It isn’t the demon-gu.” Xiao Chunhe sniffled and sobbed. “I thought I’d turned into Jichuan. It was so bitter, so hard… I really did want to kill Qiu Heng. His immortal bones were so powerful that I could have saved you with them, maybe even helped both of us ascend. I’m greedy enough to want that, of course I am. But I knew you wouldn’t agree, and doing it would make you hate me. I didn’t strike to kill him. I was just desperate to save you… And then you came along and slapped me across the face, putting on airs and spouting all those lofty principles, all because you refused to believe me!”
He wept wretchedly, so wronged he could scarcely bear it.
Yue Jingming lowered his eyes. “I never disbelieved you.”
“Bullshit! You drove me away and refused to see me ever again. If that doesn’t mean you didn’t believe me, what does? Do you take me for a fool?” Xiao Chunhe glared at him furiously. “You even made sure I’d know, carving those two lines about meeting again in the next life. You only realized you’d misunderstood me once you found the demons suppressed beneath the temple, didn’t you? But you would rather die than see me again!”
“I carved those words because I wanted to apologize to you,” Yue Jingming explained softly. “After you brought me back with the immortal bones, I couldn’t see the demons anymore. I couldn’t sense a trace of demonic qi, so I thought you had arranged everything to deceive me. My master, junior brother, and all those disciples had died such terrible deaths. My Dao heart shattered. I thought it was entirely my fault, and in my despair I drove you away. Later I cultivated the Dao anew, saw the demons Qiu Heng had suppressed, and remembered what he’d said. Only then did I understand. But by then… my life was almost spent. I couldn’t leave the temple.”
Xiao Chunhe gripped his hand anxiously. “When did you die?”
Yue Jingming looked up at him. “When you came to say goodbye before going down the mountain.”
“Then… then that means…” Blood welled at the corners of Xiao Chunhe’s mouth. Clutching Yue Jingming, he cried, “If only I’d forced my way inside! If you’d told me yourself, even if you’d misunderstood me, I would have forgiven you. How could you do that—”
“Xiao Chunhe.” Yue Jingming steadied him by the shoulders. “Chunhe.”
Xiao Chunhe looked at him through tears. “But I was too frightened to go inside. I was afraid of dying, too afraid to return your yuan core. And I was afraid you and I really would become strangers. I know I’m the one who made you like this. Qiu Heng was right when he said I’d ruined you.”
“Neither of us ruined the other.” Yue Jingming was scarcely in a better state himself. He still felt that he was Qiu Rongxi, but his last shred of clarity warned him how dangerous that was. “You are you, and Jichuan is Jichuan. You wouldn’t necessarily choose the same path he did.”
Xiao Chunhe sniffled and looked at him pitifully. “Really?”
“What would you have done, then?” Yue Jingming asked, deliberately trying to draw him away from the overwhelming emotions.
Sure enough, Xiao Chunhe regained a little of his own clarity. He blinked. “If it had been me, I would have made sure that butcher stopped breathing after I stabbed him. What right did someone like that have to insult me? I’d have killed the people standing around watching, too, so they couldn’t cause trouble later. I certainly wouldn’t have given you the chance to defy Heaven and bring anyone back to life.”
Yue Jingming: “…”
The more Xiao Chunhe thought about it, the angrier he became, and the more his own awareness gained the upper hand. “If you ask me, Jichuan was an idiot! What difference did it make whether they ever met again? Since Rongxi suspected him anyway, what did it matter whether he’d planned it? The deed was already done. Qiu Rongxi’s Dao heart had shattered and his cultivation was gone. He should have dragged Rongxi back, bound him, and forced himself on him repeatedly until he submitted. Then he could cultivate using Qiu Heng’s immortal bones, seal Rongxi’s memories, trick him into believing they were Dao companions, and the two of them could ascend together. Why all those rules and tragic misunderstandings? The benefits you actually get are the only things that matter.”
As he spoke, a bright gleam returned to his fox eyes, red and swollen from crying. He even looked rather pleased with the idea, as though it were only natural.
Yue Jingming’s expression went flat, and a note of warning entered his voice. “Xiao Chunhe.”
This fox demon was far more unruly than Jichuan had ever been.
Xiao Chunhe glared at him. “Qiu Rongxi was an enormous idiot too! He took responsibility for every single thing that went wrong. If everyone in the world behaved like that, no one would have a reason to keep living. They might as well all die!”
He sprang angrily to his feet and stamped twice on the farewell inscription. “And all that nonsense about another lifetime! Even if there is another one, they won’t be Qiu Rongxi and Jichuan anymore. One was a hopeless do-gooder and the other a coward. They were both bastards! I’m furious!”
He howled with frustration. Watching the commotion, Yue Jingming felt Qiu Rongxi’s stubborn regrets and resentments, which had been coiled so tightly around his own heart, gradually subside. He sighed helplessly. “All right. Since you’re awake now, be a little quieter.”
Xiao Chunhe poked his shoulder with his fan. “I’m not completely awake. Just looking at you still makes me angry.”
Yue Jingming leaned aside to avoid the fan and said mildly, “Shall I leave, then?”
“You’re not allowed to leave.” Xiao Chunhe caught his sleeve. “Jichuan was furious and hurt, so he would rather swear a terrible oath never to see Qiu Rongxi again. But if… if you turned back into Qiu Rongxi, what would you do?”
Yue Jingming considered the question carefully. “Matters of Heaven’s will and cause and effect cannot be forced into a happy ending. If I were the one who found you, I would naturally raise you properly and teach you well.”
Xiao Chunhe’s face fell. “Isn’t that exactly the same?”
“If you killed that butcher, you would have to bear the consequences. Whether that meant being expelled from the mountain or sent to prison, I would not shelter you again.” Yue Jingming frowned. “If you killed someone, I, as your elder, would have failed in my duty to teach you. Under Zushan’s rules, I ought to judge the matter impartially and then enter seclusion to reflect on my own failings, not conceal your wrongdoing.”
Xiao Chunhe protested angrily, “They insulted and beat me first! I only killed him by accident in a fit of anger!”
“The butcher did not deserve to die,” Yue Jingming said sternly. “And I had expressly forbidden you to go down the mountain, yet you defied me while pretending to obey. You would have to bear the consequences of your own actions.”
Xiao Chunhe remained defiant. “But it was your fox that led me astray! I did nothing wrong!”
“Absurd. Even without the fox, something else would have tempted you. In the end, your lack of resolve was what led you to commit a terrible mistake,” Yue Jingming replied coldly.
Xiao Chunhe was practically steaming with rage. “Then you’re the one who failed to raise me properly!”
Yue Jingming fell silent.
Xiao Chunhe fanned himself twice in a huff, then glanced sideways at him and cleared his throat. “That wasn’t quite what I meant.”
“What happened in the past has already happened. None of it can be changed.” Yue Jingming steadied his mind. “There’s no need to dwell on it so deeply.”
“That’s true enough. I went through all that agony with him, and it felt terrible, but in another way none of it seems entirely real.” Xiao Chunhe tapped the tip of his nose with his fan, vexed. “It was like a dream, gone in a flash. The harder I tried to see the truth, the less clearly I could make it out. All that’s left is a heart full of love and hatred and pain, yet if you ask me what I actually remember, there’s nothing.”
“Not remembering is probably how it should be. Perhaps the mirror reflected these events from the obsessions you and I carried over from previous lives. What really happened back then might not have been like this at all,” Yue Jingming speculated.
“Of course, of course! It’s only a mirror. Flowers reflected in a mirror and the moon in water cannot be taken for the real thing.” Xiao Chunhe rapped his forehead with his fan in agitation. “Then what actually happened in our past lives? We have to find the truth!”
He desperately wanted to see the truth and remember the past, so that all the resentment and longing inside him would have something solid to settle upon.
But Yue Jingming said, “The affairs of a former life should end with that life. Insisting on seeing and understanding every detail is precisely what it means to be trapped in obsession.”
“Trapped in obsession… Trapped in obsession?” Xiao Chunhe repeated. A chill ran through him. His seething emotions cooled in an instant, as though someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over him.
Yue Jingming warned both him and himself. “The harder you try to see clearly, the more you become entangled in illusions. Cling to imaginary notions of right and wrong and a truth you cannot know, and you’ll remain trapped here forever.”
To ordinary people, demons were invisible, and the paths of humans and demons did not readily intersect. Lesser demons could rarely injure people directly with their supposed spells. Instead, they excelled at using magical objects to connect with the real world, attacking people’s hearts and unsettling their minds. By exploiting outside influences in the real world, they could make people’s convictions collapse until they destroyed themselves from within. That was what made demons truly terrifying.
“That was close, far too close.” Xiao Chunhe shuddered. “If you hadn’t come to find me, I might really have turned back into Jichuan!”
“I wasn’t clearheaded at first either. I was trapped for a time in Qiu Rongxi’s unwillingness to let go,” Yue Jingming admitted.
“Then how did you wake up?” Xiao Chunhe asked curiously.
“I heard you crying terribly and thought the demon-gu must be tormenting you, so I came to take a look,” Yue Jingming replied truthfully.
Xiao Chunhe’s eyes brightened little by little. “My dear Rongxi, I knew you cared about me most.”
After speaking, he slapped a hand over his own mouth twice. “No, no. Calling you Rongxi makes my heart ache terribly. I’d better go back to calling you my wife.”
“It’s only a form of address. You needn’t take it so seriously,” Yue Jingming said.
“I need a little more time to get used to it.” Xiao Chunhe’s eyes darted mischievously. He leaned against Yue Jingming’s shoulder with a smile. “Think of it: our fates were tied together so closely in our past lives. It really must be Heaven’s will! We ought to spend a good night in bed together. Maybe that would resolve this wretched karmic entanglement all by itself.”
Yue Jingming: “…”
The more Xiao Chunhe considered it, the more convinced he became. Slapping his fan into his palm, he said, “Exactly! Jichuan loved Rongxi without being able to have him, and Rongxi yearned for Jichuan too. We were so pitiful in our previous lives that we deserve a loving, intimate life together this time!”
“Nonsense.” Yue Jingming pushed him away. “Qiu Rongxi never developed romantic feelings for Jichuan. He always regarded him as family.”
“What?!” Xiao Chunhe was thunderstruck. “But Jichuan truly loved and cherished Rongxi, he—”
He suddenly stopped. It struck him that when he had been Jichuan, his feelings for Rongxi had not actually been romantic either. They had been closer to what Jichuan himself called the bond between teacher, friend, and cherished companion.
He flew into a rage. “They weren’t even lovers, and they still made such a life-and-death tragedy of it? Where’s the justice in that?!”
He had loved Yue Jingming from the first moment he saw him, wanted to kiss and embrace him and share his bed. He simply could not accept that the two of them had not been lovers in their previous lives!
Yue Jingming said, “It isn’t important.”
Xiao Chunhe wilted. “It’s terribly important. Thank goodness they were both cultivators and neither married, had children, or ever fell in love. Otherwise I really would have gone mad.”
Somewhere along the way, his attention had wandered completely off course and never returned. He had forgotten the agony of reliving the past. Now he was preoccupied only with whether Jichuan and Rongxi could have slept together, and how delicious the plum-blossom wine must have been for Rongxi to bury so many jars of it for Jichuan.
Yue Jingming was drawn into that line of thought too. After reflecting seriously, he said, “There was no mention of exactly how it was brewed, but they buried it in winter and dug it up the following spring, after a year had passed. It only carried the scent of plum blossoms. Perhaps we could try making some.”
Xiao Chunhe licked his lips. “Forget it. That doesn’t seem very auspicious.”
Yue Jingming was puzzled. “Why?”
“Those two never got together.” Xiao Chunhe adopted a solemn, superstitious tone. “What if we drink that wine and end up unable to be together either? We can’t drink that plum-blossom wine.”
“They were never going to be together,” Yue Jingming corrected.
“And what about us?” Xiao Chunhe raised an eyebrow.
Without changing expression, Yue Jingming answered, “I’ll brew a different wine for you.”
Xiao Chunhe gave him a sly smile. “All right.”
One kept his mind steady and upright while the other joked and teased. Around them, the lifelike scenery gradually became strange and distorted, as though a thin veil of fog had settled over everything, blurring the view.
They sat side by side on the steps, talking quietly back and forth. The clearer their minds became, the thicker the mist grew, until the demon hiding in it could no longer restrain itself.
A distant, indistinct voice sounded beside Yue Jingming’s ear.
“Xiao Chunhe is Jichuan. He ruined the life in which you were destined to attain the Dao and become immortal. Don’t you hate him?”
“Don’t you blame yourself? Because of Jichuan, you got Qiu Luochen, Qiu Heng, and all those innocent disciples of yours killed.”
“Are you really willing to accept that?”
Yue Jingming lowered his eyes. The No-Thought One-Mind Art circulated quietly within him, but he did not resist the anguish and resentment that had sunk so deeply into his bones.
The voice went on, “You’re peering through fog and cannot see clearly. If you draw out your own soul, you can learn the truth of what happened back then. Can you really bear to let it go?”
As though he heard nothing, Yue Jingming continued folding the handkerchief in his hands and passed it to Xiao Chunhe beside him.
The voice said again, “Your ill-fated bond began in a previous life, and you will find no happy ending with him in this one either. Leave your souls here, and neither of you will ever have to suffer again. You can remain together forever. Isn’t that the selfish wish you’re afraid to acknowledge?”
Yue Jingming’s hand froze in midair.
Xiao Chunhe, beside him, had heard the voice from deep within the mist as well.
“Rongxi owed you. For all his high-sounding words and righteous airs, he only wanted to use you to prove his own Dao.”
“He was the one who abandoned you first. His refusal to see the truth brought you all that suffering. Teacher and friend, cherished companion? Surely you know for yourself whether you had feelings for him.”
“There is no demon-gu here, and no No-Thought One-Mind Art. Nothing can stand between you. Rongxi was always meant to belong to you alone.”
“He is yours.”
Xiao Chunhe’s pupils quivered.
Almost at the same instant, the two men stiffly turned toward one another.
Yue Jingming: “…”
Xiao Chunhe: “…”
Everything happened at once. Yue Jingming drew his Clear Breeze Sword while Xiao Chunhe snapped open his fan. Steel struck fan with a clear ringing note. The demon hidden in the mist smiled to itself, ready to watch them destroy each other, only for sword and fan to turn in perfect unison and slash straight through the fog toward it!
Feng Qingying recoiled in alarm and spat out a cloud of deep-red charm incense. Xiao Chunhe instantly drew out his phantom stone, which swallowed every wisp of the incense. The stone blazed with light, demonic qi pouring from it as its power more than doubled.
Xiao Chunhe exclaimed in delight, “Go on, spit out some more!”
Feng Qingying nearly choked on blood. With a furious shout, she drew all the mist inside the mirror into a long whip, infused it with demonic power, and lashed at them. “You’re both staying here! Those immortal bones belonged to me in the first place!”
Xiao Chunhe raised his fan to block the blow. “So you really are that ungrateful charm demon.”
“She isn’t.” Yue Jingming flicked his sword through the whip coiling toward Xiao Chunhe and drove Feng Qingying back several steps with true qi.
Xiao Chunhe looked bewildered. “She isn’t?”
“There may indeed have been a young demon back then, but that doesn’t mean it was her,” Yue Jingming answered.
“I see! Even though she owns this mirror, she’s entered it herself. She wants the immortal bones, too, so her own obsession has caught her and made her take the young demon’s place in these events.” Xiao Chunhe laughed with sudden understanding. “Ha! You old demon, after all those years of cultivation, you’re still worse at this than we are!”
Provoked into a fury, Feng Qingying sent her whip lashing at them without restraint.
Xiao Chunhe was quick and agile, but he still took two blows and cried out in pain. “You dare strike my face?! I finally managed to be born this handsome in this life. You must have a death wish!”
He transformed into his enormous true fox form, opened his jaws, and lunged at Feng Qingying, sinking his teeth into one of the charm demon’s arms.
Feng Qingying swung her whip around the fox’s neck and was about to tighten it when Yue Jingming suddenly appeared and severed the whip with one sword stroke. In the same motion, he sliced away a long tuft of white fur from the fox’s chest.
Xiao Chunhe cried out in horror, “That was my prettiest patch of fur!”
He loosened his jaws, giving Feng Qingying an opening. Knowing the memories of the past could no longer trap the two men, she plunged into the mist, intending to finish matters once and for all by sealing the mirror’s entrance.
“This is bad.” Yue Jingming immediately gave chase. “Chunhe, follow me!”
Xiao Chunhe sprang forward. A fox demon was far faster than a human. The great fox twisted his head, caught the front of Yue Jingming’s robe in his teeth, and tossed him onto his back. “Hold tight!”
Yue Jingming disappeared into the soft sea of fox fur. Flattening himself against the fox’s back, he formed seals with both hands. His horsetail whisk transformed into a long white ribbon and wrapped itself around Feng Qingying’s ankle. “Hold her back!”
With that, Yue Jingming sprang back into the white mist behind them.
Feng Qingying had already emerged halfway from the treasure mirror when a powerful force dragged against her. The lesser demons standing guard rushed forward to help. “Your Majesty!”
Looking back, Feng Qingying saw a man and a fox in the swirling vortex of mirror shards, the white ribbon wound tightly around her ankle. Furious, she cried, “And you dare call yourselves righteous cultivators! Have you no shame? Qiu Rongxi and Jichuan would never have stooped to anything this despicable!”
“We’re about to lose our lives! Who has time to worry about shame?” Xiao Chunhe bit down hard on the ribbon, his fox face twisted into a fearsome grimace. “Let us out!”
“Never!” Feng Qingying raised her whip to strike him.
Still gripping the ribbon between his teeth, Xiao Chunhe jerked it backward, immediately hauling Feng Qingying partway back into the mirror.
The lesser demons cried out in alarm. “Your Majesty! The incense stick is almost burnt out! If you don’t get out now, you’ll be sealed inside the mirror and turned into one of its treasures too!”
Two streams of demonic qi collided violently. Xiao Chunhe and Feng Qingying fought desperately, neither willing to yield. But she was an old demon, and Xiao Chunhe was gradually struggling to hold on. He shouted into the mist, “Yue Jingming! You haven’t gotten lost in those old memories again, have you? I can’t hold on! My teeth are about to break!”
The white ribbon stretched taut and gave a sharp snapping sound. Feng Qingying said, “If we keep fighting, we’ll only destroy each other. Why don’t we both compromise? I’ll take you out and leave the two mortals here in exchange for your life.”
Xiao Chunhe bared his teeth. “Not a chance! Even if I’m sealed inside the mirror, I’ll stay with Yue Jingming!”
“Then don’t blame me for what happens.” Feng Qingying noticed the wound on his chest and flicked her whip. When he raised a defense against it, her five fingers became claws, and she drove them into his chest.
Xiao Chunhe’s pupils shrank. He released the ribbon, but a heartbeat too late. Just as the claws were about to tear into his chest, a figure appeared in front of him. Feng Qingying’s claws buried themselves deep in the newcomer’s back, sending blood spraying through the air.
“Yue Jingming!” Xiao Chunhe cried in fury and terror. He struck Feng Qingying with one great paw, then sank his fangs into her waist and abdomen. Black veins raced across his body as he swelled to several times his former size. The overwhelming demonic qi of a great demon filled the entire treasure mirror, and cracks spread across its surface.
Feng Qingying screamed and dissolved into black smoke, fleeing into the mist.
The lesser demons guarding the mirror smelled that terrifying demonic qi. Abandoning even their queen, they scattered in every direction.
Crash!
The Glazed Treasure-Reflecting Mirror exploded into countless pieces. The blast of violent wind hurled the people trapped inside out into the open.
“Yue Jingming!” Frantic with worry, Xiao Chunhe touched the fallen Daoist with a forepaw. He did not move. The fox extended his tongue and gently licked Yue Jingming’s bloodied back, sealing the wound with demonic qi before carefully turning him over.
Ye Shijiu released his grip on the fox’s tail and reached for his own mouth and ears in terror. Only after confirming that he could hear and speak again did he breathe out in relief. Then he hurried over. “Oh no, oh no! W-what do we do? Is… is he dead?”
“He’s not dead.” Xiao Chunhe caught Yue Jingming gently in his jaws and lifted him onto his back, then motioned for Ye Shijiu to climb up. “Keep him steady.”
Ye Shijiu nodded hurriedly.
The Glazed Crystal Pavilion creaked ominously. Looking up, Ye Shijiu saw spiderweb cracks spreading through its shimmering glass walls. Multicolored lanterns began to fall, and flames sprang up, racing toward the roof.
The enormous fox dodged left and right with the two of them on his back. Amid bright, ringing crashes of breaking glass, he escaped the sea of flames and leapt out through the narrow entrance.
The dog demon standing guard shook so badly its legs almost gave way. Barking wildly, it fled.
The lantern festival on Zhongzhou’s Eighteen Streets was nearly over. A crowd still thronged outside Linyun Tower. Seven-colored lanterns floated into the sky, and countless fireworks burst brilliantly overhead, concealing the commotion in this little corner beneath the sea of lights.
With a soft pop, Xiao Chunhe shrank into an ordinary little fox. Yue Jingming and Ye Shijiu tumbled to the ground, unconscious. Xiao Chunhe struggled to his feet and stumbled over to Yue Jingming. He pressed his head hard against the Daoist’s chin, then collapsed across his neck, utterly exhausted.
In the flickering firelight, he saw Liang Yun scrambling desperately toward them.
“Shijiu! Brother Yue!” Liang Yun stared in horror at the two bloodied figures, then looked toward the collapsed entrance. “Where’s Brother Xiao? What happened? Where did this little fox come from?”
Relief washed over Xiao Chunhe. He closed his eyes in exhaustion, but still heard Liang Yun’s panicked, trembling shout. “The Myriad Demons Scroll is still in my stomach! You absolutely cannot die on me!”
The little fox moved his tail, curled himself into a ball against Yue Jingming’s chest, and peacefully closed his eyes.